My Cocky Girlfriend
by sadtomato
Summary: Edward shares a sexy fantasy with new girlfriend Rose, and then worries that he's scared her away. Will she shut him down or surprise him with her enthusiasm? AH, lemony. Prompt: Roseward. Pegging. Red corset. Necktie. Boston Cream PIe.


**WARNING:**

**This story contains Rosalie and Edward engaging in sexytimes.**

**Also, it contains pegging, which means a lady doing rude things to a gentleman's behind. With a strap-on.**

****If you don't think you'll like this, don't read it. You won't hurt my feelings. If you're up for giving it a try, please enjoy.**  
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**END WARNING**

**I wrote this all in one day after MJinAspen gave me this prompt: ****Roseward. Pegging. Red corset. Necktie. Boston Cream Pie.**

**So... that's where this is going. Thanks to SingleStrand for editing this, although I STAND BY MY OXFORD COMMAS, WENCH.**

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><p>"I just don't understand," she whispers, and I can picture her curling up on her side in her huge canopy bed. The first time I saw it I had to stifle my laughter; this woman-this sexy, powerful woman-had a princess bed.<p>

"I told you, baby, we don't have to do it. It's just ... something I enjoy, but I don't _need _it. You asked what I was thinking about, and I wanted to be honest," I tell her. She'd been at my apartment an hour ago, sitting on the couch with me. We were talking in hushed voices about fantasies, both of us still a little tentative because of our relatively new sexual relationship.

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><p>We met at work-well, sort of. She owns a consulting firm that rents space in the same building that I work in. She's beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous really, and I always noticed her coming and going. I would linger in the lobby, hoping to spot her on her way in and try to catch the same elevator. By the time I worked up the courage to talk to her, I was sure she had caught me staring and thought I was a creep. I waited for her to run to security and complain about my stalking ways.<p>

She didn't, though. She laughed at my terrible jokes and chatted about the weather, asked me about the Mariners and flipped her silky blonde hair over her shoulder. She's tall, my Rose, just an inch shorter than me when we're in our bare feet, but she wears crazy high heels to work. I had to look up into her eyes when I asked her out, and I was grateful for her immediate, wide smile and her excited "yes!"

My Rose, my beautiful girl, is sort of a study in contrasts. She's bold and powerful, especially at work. No one questions her authority or her competence. Even out in public, on dates or at parties with friends, she's witty and outgoing, strong and brash. I didn't see the other side of her until we spent time alone, really alone. She can be quiet and reserved, especially when she's trying to think through a problem. She's girly and sweet; she absolutely loves it when I pick her up or hold her in my lap. In bed, I get to see both sides of the coin; she's almost always tentative and shy until I get her going, and then she relaxes enough to demand what she wants, to take control if she feels like it.

She doesn't like to talk about sex, though. Refuses to tell me what her fantasies are while we're in bed together. So tonight, I tucked her under my arm while we sat on the couch, stroked the bare skin at her neck and her shoulder, and told her how desperate I was to _really_ know her. To really know what she wanted in bed, because although she always seems satisfied, I'm the one who initiates everything.

"Can you tell me something you've done before that you enjoyed?" I asked her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I like everything we do," she'd whispered. "There's nothing else I need."

"But is there something else you want? Something you think about?" I pushed.

"Sometimes..." she began, looking up into my eyes for reassurance. I nodded at her, gave her a gentle smile to encourage her to talk. "Sometimes I think about ... um, if you couldn't move your hands."

"You mean like tying me up?" I asked. She nodded sheepishly and tried to bury her face in my shoulder. "I could do that. I mean, I've never been tied up, but I think I might like it. I'd love to try it with you sometime."

"Yeah?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," I told her, smiling. I trailed my fingers down over her shoulder, her arm, down to her hand. Lacing my fingers through hers, I lowered my tone and whispered, "See? You tell me what you want, you might just get it."

"So what do you want? Do you have like ... um, a fantasy?" she asked, snuggling a little closer.

"I have _lots_ of fantasies," I confessed. "My newest one is you riding me while my hands are tied to my headboard with a necktie."

She giggled. "What else?"

"Hmmm, fucking you on your desk at work."

"Yeah? How? Like bent over?" she asked.

"Maybe. Or maybe I want you sitting on the desk with your legs wrapped around me and those ridiculous pointy shoes digging into my back." She hummed in pleasure, and I felt my cock stirring at the thought of it.

"I've always wanted to ... I've never done it in the shower," she said, her voice brightening a little bit.

"Oh we're _definitely_ gonna do that," I told her, tickling her ribs. We talked for a while, sharing fantasies, our kisses and touches growing a little more heated with every revelation.

There was one fantasy that I almost didn't share. It was something I first tried long ago with a college girlfriend and have only shared with one other woman since then-definitely not the kind of thing you do with a casual hookup.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I've got another one," I told her, kissing her lips softly. "But we don't have to do it if you don't want to, okay?"

"Okay," she said, her fingers slipping between the buttons on my shirt.

"Do you know what pegging is?" I asked.

"Hmm ... no?" she said.

"Oh, um ..." I blushed a little at having to explain it to her. There's really no way to put it delicately. "Uh, basically, it's where a woman uses a strap-on to fuck a man."

She was confused at first, staring up at me with her brow furrowed. And then her eyes widened in understanding, and her jaw dropped.

"Whoa..." she said, blinking wildly. She straightened up, pulling away from me, her hands moving to her lap. "I don't know, Edward, I just ..."

"Rosie, it's okay, c'mere," I told her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back to me, but she didn't relax. "Baby, like I told you, we don't have to do it. It's _totally_ okay if you don't want to."

"Okay," she said, but I knew she wasn't. I tried to convince her that it wasn't a big deal, but she was clearly surprised and maybe even upset. She made an excuse to go home, mumbling about having to work in the morning even though she'd planned to stay with me. I was kicking myself as she walked out the door, wishing I had kept my mouth shut. I'm not ashamed of wanting it, but I think I shared that particular fantasy with her too soon.

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><p>She calls me an hour later to apologize.<p>

"I'm sorry I was such an asshole. You don't deserve that," she says. I shift around in my bed, trying to get comfortable.

"No, baby, it's my fault. That's definitely not a conversation we should be having at this point. I shouldn't have brought it up," I tell her, running my fingers through my hair. I flip my pillow over and punch it down.

She's quiet for a minute before she whispers, "I just don't understand."

"I told you, baby, we don't have to do it. It's just ... something I enjoy, but I don't _need _it. You asked what I was thinking about, and I wanted to be honest," I tell her.

"So you've done it before?" she asks, surprised.

"Yeah, a couple of times. With one girlfriend when I was in college; it was her idea in the first place. And I did it with one other girl a few years ago. You have to, um, really, _really_ trust the person you're with to do that, you know?" I confess. "It's not something I'd do with just anyone."

"So, um, only with girls, then?" she asks.

"Yeah, baby," I assure her. "I'm not gay, not at all. I've never wanted to be with a man. There's just something about the way it feels ... it's so intense."

"It really feels that good?" She sounds skeptical.

"It feels amazing-when you do it right. A little painful at first, but the good kind of pain, you know? And to come that way ... with something pushing up against my prostate ... it's crazy. It's completely different from a regular orgasm. There's no other way to experience that, at least not that I've found," I tell her.

"Does it feel ... I mean, does it feel good for the girl?" she asks.

"Yeah, it can. I think it depends on the girl and on what kind of toy you get. There are some that have vibrators built in, you know?" I explain. "And there are some that have a piece that fits inside you on the inside of the harness and a piece that fits inside me on the outside."

"Do you have one?"

"Nope, I've never um, taken custody of that kind of stuff after a breakup," I tell her. I picture her eyes narrowing, trying to imagine it, trying to work out exactly how it would go.

"Edward, I ..." she says, so softly that I can barely hear her.

"Honey, listen, please. It's okay if you don't want to do it. It's really _not_ a big deal, I promise. If you never want to try it, I'm okay with that, I swear," I tell her.

"Edward, what if I do? Want to?" she asks. I hold back a groan and my hand drifts down to my cock, automatically squeezing the erection I've been ignoring through this entire conversation. "I mean, I don't know for sure if I do, but ... maybe?"

"Well, if you want to, we can talk about it some more. Maybe look at some stuff online. There's no rush, okay?"

"Okay," she says, fighting a yawn.

"But you're tired now, aren't you? Why don't you go to sleep, Rosie, and we'll talk about it some other time," I promise. "Thanks for calling, honey. I was so worried that I'd upset you."

"No," she says. "I just didn't understand. I think I ... I think maybe I do now."

"I'm glad," I tell her honestly. "Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight, Edward."

* * *

><p>Neither one of us brings it up again for weeks. We try out some of the other stuff we talked about that night, finding some shared fantasies that we'll definitely try again and leaving others in the "thanks, but no thanks," column.<p>

We don't bring it up again until we're lying around in her princess bed one Sunday morning, the light streaming in to warm our mostly naked bodies. Rose is wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top, and I'm wearing the shorts I pulled out of my newly appointed "Edward drawer." It felt like a big step for her when she presented me with the empty space, offering to let me leave whatever I wanted at her place.

She's on her laptop, reading blogs or something, and I'm skimming one of her business books, something about influencing clients.

"Edward?" she says softly, drawing my attention back to her. I look up at her, taking in all of her exposed golden skin. She's so cute in the mornings, with her shiny blonde hair piled up in a messy bun and glasses perched on her nose.

"Hmm?" I ask, closing the book and scooting closer to her. My eyes are drawn to her laptop screen and the image prominently displayed-a thick, purple dildo attached to a black pleather harness. "Whoa."

"I was going to order this ... I've been thinking about it, but I thought I should ask for your, um, input. Since, well ..." she shrugs and wraps her arms around her stomach, embarrassed.

"Oh, um, okay. So ... may I?" I ask, reaching for the laptop. I take a look at the toy she's chosen, checking out the dimensions (not too big, thankfully; I'm not a masochist) and the customer reviews (overwhelmingly favorable). It has a detachable plug that Rose can use if she wants, and a small vibrator that tucks into the front.

"It seems like it has um, the most options? It's more expensive than the other ones, but I figure this isn't something you should skimp on, you know?" she says. I chuckle a little, but I can't deny her logic.

"It looks good to me. So have you been thinking about this since we talked about it?" I ask her, setting the computer back on her lap. She nods and straightens her legs, moving the laptop back a little so we can both see it.

"Mmhmm," she says, opening a menu on her browser. She pulls down her bookmarks and opens a folder called "F." She has a dozen websites bookmarked; some look like toys, just like what she showed me; one is called "Bend Over Boyfriend."

"Wow," I breathe, reading all the titles. "You did your research, didn't you?"

"Well, I thought about it a lot, you know? At first I thought maybe I couldn't ... maybe I couldn't do it. But I read about it, and I um, watched some videos?" she admits, blushing. "And the women look so ... sexy. And the men seem to love it. You said it feels amazing, and I um, want that. I want to make you feel that way."

My chest tightens and it hits me, for the first time really, that I'm in love with her.

Not because she's going to fulfill my fantasy. Not because she's beautiful, although she is so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her sometimes.

I'm in love with her because she's everything I could ever need. I love her because she's smart, confident, and powerful in her day-to-day life, but even moreso because of the way she really lets me in behind closed doors. She's not a stereotype, she's not all bossy and domineering, or blushing and demure. She's just herself, and she's exactly what I want.

"Rose?" I ask, and she looks over at me, pushing her glasses up. I want to tell her, but I feel like this might be the wrong time-when she has a page full of sex toys up on her computer. "You're so sweet."

"Sweet?" she says, her eyes twinkling with humor. "We'll see if you think I'm sweet when I'm doing this," she says, clicking on one of her bookmarks. An image of a curvy brunette appears on screen, and Rose pushes play. The camera pans down to a huge dildo jutting out from between her thighs, then to a man draped over the edge of a plush, red couch. There's a glare on the screen, so I sit up next to Rose for a better view.

We watch it together, commenting on how beautiful she looks, how big the toy is, how carefully she prepares him.

"I'm nervous about that part. Touching you that way," she admits. "I've never ..."

"We could try it? Whenever. All you need is a little lube. Have you ever tried anything like that? Ever had anal sex?" I ask.

"Um, not exactly," she says. "I mean, no. Not anal sex. I did have a boyfriend who would put his finger inside while he was going down on me ..."

"Did you like it?" I ask. She gets a far-off, sort of dreamy look in her eyes, and nods her head. "Oh, then I'm definitely gonna have to try that out," I promise. She closes her laptop, slides it to the foot of the bed, and crawls into my lap.

"You're the best," she says, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Rosie, honey, I think you've proven that you're the fucking best," I tell her, lowering my lips to her neck. "Now let me show you how much I appreciate it."

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><p>At lunch today, our normal Friday sushi date, she told me that she's ready. That the package came on Wednesday, and she cleaned the toy and tried on the harness, that she's comfortable wearing it and wants to try. She asked if I wanted to come over that night or if I wanted to wait until the weekend. I was blown away by her casual conversation about something that had seemed to unnerve her so much when I first brought it up; the more research she's done, the more she's gotten excited about the idea.<p>

"Rose? Honey?" I call, opening the door to her apartment. I used the key she gave me last week, the one she quietly slipped on my key ring as she told me I was always welcome.

"In the bedroom," she calls. I kick off my shoes and hang my jacket up on one of the coat hooks behind her door. I make my way to her bedroom, loosening my tie, and push the door open.

She's waiting for me, standing next to her bed wearing a red satin corset, fitted snugly at her waist and flaring out to cup her breasts. The matching panties are tiny, exposing just a sliver of tan skin between the waistband and the bottom of her corset. She's never looked sexier. My dick jumps at the sight, fighting to get closer to her.

"Wow," I say, struggling to close my jaw.

"You like it?" she asks, smoothing her hands over the fabric. "I wanted something that would make me feel sexy and like ... badass."

"Um, you've definitely accomplished that," I tell her, stalking forward. She lets me get close before reaching out for me, grabbing my tie and yanking me the rest of the way. Her lips are hot and demanding on mine, her arms tight around my neck. I wrap my hands around her waist, trailing my fingers over the satiny fabric.

Rose is fired up, abandoning my mouth to trail kisses down my jaw. Her fingers are pulling at the buttons on my shirt, tugging the fabric apart.

"Sweetie, slow down," I beg her, stilling her fingers with mine. "Need to tell you something."

"Hmm?" she asks, tilting her head in confusion. I bring her hands to my lips, kiss each one, and squeeze them tightly.

"God, I know we've been over this, and I don't want to kill your buzz, but I need to talk to you before we do this, okay?" She nods warily, and I move to reassure her before her mind goes to all kinds of awful scenarios. "There's nothing bad, I just want to tell you two things. First, if you want to stop-at all, at any time-just tell me. I swear, I won't mind. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable just because you think I want it, okay?"

"I know," she says, pulling her hands loose. She cups my face in her hand and looks into my eyes. "Same goes for you, you know?"

"I know," I tell her. She kisses my lips softly.

"What's the other thing?" she asks, and my heart skips a beat. The words have been right there on the tip of my tongue since that Sunday morning, but I haven't found the right time or the right place to say them. I need to say them now because I know I can't keep it in any longer, because I don't want the first time I say it to be while she's fucking me.

"Just ... I love you, is all," I tell her, watching her ruby red lips part as she gasps. I kiss her quickly, in case she's not ready to say it back. "I just want you to know that. Not because of all this, but ... yeah, I love you."

Her head tilts forward until her forehead touches mine, and she closes her eyes when she says, "I love you too, Edward."

I smile like a fool, clutching desperately at the fabric of her corset to try to pull her closer. Her kiss is softer, less desperate now, but still has an edge of excitement.

"Okay, you can go back to tearing off my clothes now," I tell her. She giggles as she does just that, pulling off my tie, my shirt, my pants. She walks me backwards until I'm sitting on her bed, pushes me further back so she can straddle my legs. I hold her close and kiss her fiercely, pulling her flush against my chest.

She pulls away, gasping, and I drop my head to kiss the sweet, tender skin at her neck. She leans back, arching up towards me, and I let my lips drop to the swell of her breasts, pushed up by the corset. I'm consumed with the idea of tasting every inch of her skin.

"Off," I moan, tugging at the little red panties. "Get these off." I push them down until I can't move them any further, then she scrambles off my lap to slip them off the rest of the way. I pull her right back to me, cupping her smooth, round cheeks in my hands.

"Edward," she moans, grinding against me shamelessly. I pull her down with me and roll us over until I'm bracing myself over her, her legs locked around my waist.

"So sexy," I tell her, scooting backwards as I kiss down her neck again, over her breasts, and down the center of the corset. I run out of room and slip off the bed, down to my knees, pulling Rose with me. Her legs dangle over the side, and I lift one gently and drape it over my shoulder. "I want to lick you, Rosie. Do you want me to?"

"Fuck yes," she mutters, pushing up on her elbows so she can see me. I lock eyes with her and bow my head, pressing one soft, sweet kiss against her clit. She whimpers in response, her eyelids already fluttering in pleasure. When I tease it with my tongue, drawing the little bud into my mouth, she swears again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she says, wiggling her hips as she struggles to control her body.

"Just let it go, Rose," I tell her, teasing her entrance with my middle finger. "Don't hold back." She rests her other leg on my shoulder, locks her ankles behind my back, and pushes back against my face as I fuck her with my fingers and my tongue.

"God, Edward, you drive me crazy," she rasps, her voice getting low and breathy as her arousal builds. "Faster, please?"

I know she wants it faster because she's close, because she wants to come, so I make her wait for it. I drag it out, nibbling gently on her flesh, stroking her so slowly that she hisses in frustration.

"You like this?" I ask, sucking her clit into my mouth.

"Mmm," she purrs, bucking her hips against me. "Oh, no, wait!" she says, tugging at my hair, pulling me away from her sweet, soft pussy.

"What's wrong?" I ask, stroking her thighs.

"If I ..." she starts, glancing down at my face between her legs. "If I come now, it'll be harder for me to come while I'm ..."

My body tenses with excitement, my cock jumping at the thought of Rose coming while she's inside me.

"While you're what, baby?" I ask, moving my fingers inside her slowly, pressing against the spot that makes her squirm.

"While I'm fucking you," she breathes, her eyes locked on mine. I nearly lose it just hearing the words, just knowing that she wants this just as much as I do.

"Where is it?' I ask. She nods at her nightstand, and I untangle myself from her legs so I can move. I crawl over to the drawers and open them, finding the harness, the purple toy, and a bottle of lube. I toss the lube on the bed and move back to Rose, laying the harness out at her feet.

She stands up, arranges her feet in the straps, and watches as I slide them slowly up her legs. I secure the dildo, noting how it's pressed up against a little vibrator tucked inside.

"Isn't there supposed to be another piece?" I ask, brushing my thumbs against the front of her thighs as she adjusts the straps. "For you?"

"I tried it but I didn't like the way it felt. I want to try it like this, first," she says, sitting back on the bed. The purple dildo juts out obscenely between her thighs, and I shudder with excitement at the thought of what she's going to do with it. "Lay down here, on your stomach," she says, grabbing the lube and patting the bed beside her.

I stand up and bend low to brush my lips against hers again, trying to thank her with my kiss. She smiles brilliantly and tugs on my arm, urging me down beside her.

Rose kneels on the bed next to me, ignoring the lube at first and massaging my back. Her hands are strong, kneading my muscles and forcing me to relax. She works my shoulders, my upper back, and then lower, focusing her attention on each area. I'm _so_ relaxed that I don't notice one hand moving away, or the sound of the lube being opened. I jump when her slick finger trails down between my cheeks, and she soothes me with her other hand, pressing it flat against my lower back.

"Shhh, Edward. This feel okay?" she asks, pressing a finger against my opening. I groan with pleasure, the dormant nerve endings firing up at the first sensual touch I've felt there in years.

"So good, honey," I tell her. She's gentle, moving that one finger in and out slowly and carefully.

"More?" she asks, and I feel a second finger circling with the first.

"Yeah, I'm good," I promise. Oh fuck, this is what I missed-this stretching, this fullness. I love that Rose's delicate hands are doing this to me. I love that my girl, brilliant and powerful and sweet and sexy, is doing this to me.

"God, Edward," she says, "I love the fucking sounds you're making right now." She twists her fingers, earning another grunt, and I thrill at her enthusiasm. I feel more wetness, the cool lube drizzling over her fingers, and she starts to stretch me in earnest, scissoring her fingers and preparing me thoroughly.

"Do you know what this looks like?" she says, breathless. "It's so ... you're just so sexy. The muscles your back ... the way you're pushing back against me, fucking my fingers ... I want to fuck you, Edward. Are you ready?"

"Kiss me," I beg, turning my head. She smiles, bends down, and kisses me passionately. I don't want to let her go, but I can feel the silicone toy brushing against my skin, and I want it desperately. Now that I've had a taste of the sensations I remember, I'm dying to feel them all again.

"How should we do this, baby?" I ask her, lifting up on my elbows.

"Umm, I'm not sure? What do you think?" she says. There's a short, padded headboard at the top of her bed, and I crawl forward until I'm gripping it.

"Get behind me, like this," I suggest, tilting my head behind me. She crawls forward and settles between my legs, balancing herself carefully with one hand on my back. "Still have the lube, baby? Put some on the toy, too," I remind her.

I look over my shoulder, twisting my torso so I can watch as she coats her hand in lube and strokes the toy. She's thorough, paying special attention to the tip, and it looks for a moment like it's a part of her-an extension of Rose's body. She catches me staring and grins, exaggerating her strokes for my sake.

"Are you sure, Edward? This seems a lot bigger than just my fingers," she asks, shuffling closer. I feel the slick silicone brush against my skin and my cock throbs in anticipation.

"I'm sure, baby. I can handle it," I promise.

"Okay," she says, and I feel the cool, slick tip pressing against me. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

"I promise, Rosie," I tell her. She leans forward, rests one hand on my shoulder, and uses the other to guide the toy inside me. I hiss at the initial burn, the slight pain of the stretch as she moves against my body even as it resists the invasion.

"Edward?" she says, worry in her tone. I let go of the headboard with one hand and move it to my shoulder, covering her fingers with mine, reassuring her.

"It's good, baby. So good. Just go slow. You're doing great." She lets out a deep breath as she slides in further, pushing forward until her soft hips are pressed against me. "Perfect, it feels perfect, Rosie. Now back out, just as slow."

The first few thrusts are just like this, slow and tentative, stopping and starting. Rose adds lube every step of the way and I reassure her, promising that it feels good, that my body is adjusting. On her fourth or fifth try, she pushes in a little faster, just a little harder, and lets out a long, low moan.

"Did you turn the vibrator on, Rosie?" I ask.

"Mmm, yeah," she says, pulling out slowly. I'm accepting her easily now and eagerly anticipating being filled. The vibrator makes her less hesitant, rewards her for thrusting with some force, and it doesn't take long for her to establish a rhythm.

I drop my left hand down to my dick and grip it tightly, stroking it to the rhythm Rosalie is setting with her hips. My right hand is still gripping the headboard for balance, and Rose is holding onto me, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip.

It feels so good, so fucking good, and I'm already overstimulated. Rose's beautiful body, the sexy corset, her hands on my skin, the force of her body driving the toy into mine ... it's all pushing me forward, taking me to a place where all I feel is pleasure.

"Harder, please, Rose," I whimper, stroking my cock faster. "Fuck me harder!" I push back against her, chasing the feeling I remember from so long ago. There's a certain speed-or maybe a certain angle-there's something about this that I know will take me higher, make me lose control. We experiment, moving together, speeding up and slowing down, whispering encouragement to each other.

"Edward," she finally says, panting with exertion, "God, I'm getting close already."

"I'm gonna move," I warn her, dropping down to my elbows. She releases my shoulder and grips my hips with both hands, slamming into me now and grinding against the toy every time its fully seated. "Fuck!"

This is it, the feeling I remember. My hand flies over my cock, and I'm moaning and at the sensations rocking my body. I can feel Rose leaning against me, the tips of her long hair brushing my lower back. I picture her lost in pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut as she gets closer to her own orgasm.

"Fuck, Rosie. You're gonna make me come, baby," I warn her.

"Want you to," she pants. "Want you to come like _this_," she grunts, thrusting sharply to emphasize her point.

"Don't stop," I beg, and she doesn't; she keeps up a hard, fast rhythm, not stopping to grind against the vibrator, until I'm an incoherent, moaning mess. My orgasm starts deep inside me, where Rose is dragging that toy against every sensitive spot I have, and radiates out through my whole body. I'm coming in my hand, whimpering as she fucks me through it. I murmur that I love her, I need her, that she's perfect and she should never stop fucking me.

"Edward, I need," she cries, slowing her thrusts and lingering, circling her hips against me.

"Yes, baby," I tell her. "Come, please? Fuck me, Rosie. Use me, grind against me, come for me."

She finds her release a minute later, grinding her hips against the toy pressed inside me. "Oh, God!" she cries, shuddering through her orgasm, collapsing against my back. We rest there for a minute, still connected by the toy, just coming down and both trying to catch our breath.

"Wow," she says, turning her head. She drags her lips against my skin, peppering my shoulders with kisses.

"Mmmhmm," I tell her, wishing I could turn to pull her into my arms. "Baby, why don't you ... just be gentle when you take it out ..." She lifts herself off me and slowly, gently pulls the toy out. I feel empty and a little bit uncomfortable now, but so fucking satisfied that I don't mind.

She flops back against the bed, her golden hair forming a halo where she rests on the pillow. I lean over her and kiss her sweetly, touching my forehead to hers once again. "Let me?" I ask, tugging at the harness still on her hips. I pull it off and carry it to the bathroom, promising her I'll be right back. After I wash the toy and clean myself up, I bring her a warm washcloth and clean her up too, gently pressing it against her thighs.

"Help me take this off?" she says, tugging at the laces of her corset. I untie them and help her loosen it enough that she can shimmy out of it. When we're done, the washcloth and the corset tossed aside, I finally get what I want: my girl, naked, pressed against my body. We kiss, touch, and talk for a while, relaxing against each other as our bodies calm down.

"So ..." she says, pressing her lips to my shoulder. "Was it ... I mean, how was I?"

"Do you really have to ask?" I challenge her. She rolls her eyes and kisses me.

"Well, it would be nice to _hear_," she says.

"Rosie, honey, it was perfect. It was exactly what I wanted. It was better than I ever could have imagined," I tell her. "Did you like it?"

"I liked it," she says, rolling away from me a little. "I wouldn't say I want to do it all the time, but it was fun."

"No, no, neither do I, baby. Just once in a while? For something different?" She nods, relieved, and laces her fingers through mine.

"I'm so tired," she says, covering a yawn. "That's hard work!"

"Tell me about it," I chuckle, idly circling her nipples with a fingertip. "That corset is really fucking hot, but I missed these, you know."

"Is it weird that I'm hungry now?" she asks.

"You're such a guy," I tease. Maybe all girls should try pegging-then they'll understand why we're always tired and hungry after sex. "Want me to order some takeout?" I offer.

"No, there's some food in the fridge. Leftovers and stuff. Oh, and I got a Boston Cream Pie from that place on Sixth, I know it's your favorite," she says, her eyes lit up with excitement. "Naked picnic?" she asks, sitting up in bed, kicking the sheets away from us. She's so beautiful, flushed and sated and happy, and my heart swells. I'm so fucking lucky I found this girl.

"You're fucking amazing," I tell her honestly. "You want a naked picnic? You got it." I kiss her cheek before padding into her kitchen to pile some easy food (fruit, crackers, cheese) onto a plate. I cut a huge slice of the Boston Cream Pie for us to share and carry it all back to the bedroom.

Rose is in the bathroom washing her hands, but she hurries back to me when she sees the food. She gets comfortable in bed again and digs into the cake first, attacking it with her fork and ignoring the real food. "Told you I was hungry," she says, shrugging her shoulders.

I laugh and go for a strawberry, wincing a little bit as I shift uncomfortably on the bed. I remember now-once the high of the orgasm wears off, the soreness sets in.

"You okay?" Rose asks, reaching over to rub my thigh soothingly.

"I'm perfect," I assure her. "How about you?"

"Me too," she says, snatching her hand back. She picks up a strawberry and nibbles on the end before asking, "Any more fantasies you want to share with me, Mr. Cullen?"

"I think it's your turn, Ms. Hale," I tell her, grinning.

"Hmm," she says, tracing the juicy strawberry over her lips. "I did find some more interesting toys when I was shopping online ..." Her voice is teasing, but the slight blush on her cheeks tells me that there's something real there.

"Yeah? Like what?" I ask casually, reaching for a cracker.

"There's a box under my bed, on your side," she says, indicating that I should lean over and grab it. I pull it out from under the bed and lift it into my lap.

"Go ahead," she says, gesturing with her fork. I open it as she takes another bite of the cake and lift out a tightly coiled length of red rope along with a pair of thick, black cuffs. My eyes widen and I look up at Rose, who had seemed so shy when we first started talking about fantasies at my apartment weeks ago.

"Edward," she asks, setting her fork down on the plate. Her eyes meet mine-they're sparkling with excitement and lust. "How do you feel about ... bondage?"

* * *

><p><strong>Please take the time to leave a review, I appreciate each and every one. xoxo<strong>


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